#blurt-thoughts

[ominous-faechild]

An additional thing about (@ominous-faechild original; do not steal /lhj) runic magic within my writing!

Styluses are essentially the world's early version of wands. They're made to draw runes, but require surfaces to draw on. They always encase—or utilize as the writing utensil—a conduit (an object containing pure magic, ready for use by anyone). After the invention of wands, styluses are often used as "baby's first wand", so to speak.

In other words: styluses become the giant pencil you give a toddler budding wizard for them to begin to learn runic.

For perhaps predictable reasons, artists are often recruited as wizards. Dyscalculia and dyslexia (although not named in-universe) are known to be a particular struggle for budding wizards, however.

Hugo “Cricket” Tinoco from Waves of Misfortune is an example of both. He was sponsored by the Minoguan government to join a runic academy thanks to being a skilled artist, but was eventually forced to drop out due to struggles “recreating” the runes.

(He's got some combination of the two.)

Wands aren't too dissimilar from the tool in Marvel's Doctor Strange that allows them to write in midair. They often resemble the stereotypical image of a wand, and serve as what's essentially a magic pencil that can write in midair.

However, twist: oftentimes, wizards will etch their most-commonly-used spells spells into the sides of their wands. With that, they can then later filter magic through those runes and quickly, easily, and frequently re-use their preferred spells.

Similarly, many more advanced wizards carry around staves—which are essentially larger wands—with larger conduit cores and many, many, many more runic sigils littered across their casing.

While this may seem to (and does, in fact) simplify the art of spellcrafting, there is a risk to relying on previously-etched runes: the caster has to remember where they've put each, or learn to distinguish between them by feel.

Considering the fact that they're often etched as small as possible both to fit more and to keep a possible enemy from seeing what spells you have at the ready... it is very dangerous, indeed, to rely on pre-etched spells. The practice is highly advised against except for master practitioners with several years of experience... and practice.

"Getting a new wand" is also highly frowned upon in this case, because if the caster fails to put their runes in the exact same spots...

Well.

Some "problems" can emerge.

(unlike last time, i've got this pretty solidified in my mind. i just wanted to share because, again, i thought y'all'd find this cool)

[libraryofgage]

Been having Secretly Smart Steve thoughts except it's less that his intellect is a secret and more that nobody ever noticed lmao

The initial thought for this is based on my mom's stories about acting like a ditzy airhead in high school but then graduating with honors

Within five minutes of walking into high school Steve definitely clocked that being cool was more important than being smart right? So he didn't really let on that he was good at class stuff and just let people think he was a simple jock

And Steve graduating isn't a huge thing cuz it happens during UD stuff which means they all miss graduation ceremony and just get their degrees later, so it's not like anyone saw the honors tassels that steve was given to wear with his grad gown

And the first real hint is Lucas trying to make a basket and getting frustrated. And Steve is like "here I'll show you" and proceeds to make every throw he makes from anywhere on the court and when Lucas asks how the fuck he does that Steve shrugs and is like "well, i mean, its all angles man"

Later Mike and Will are working on an egg drop project (you know the ones) and getting worked up cuz the eggs keep cracking. Steve has been watching TV or something the whole time and outta nowhere is like "yall are missing shock absorption and proper wind resistance, duh"

Nancy is trying to decode some number based cipher for fun but it's becoming rapidly Not Fun and Steve looks over her shoulder for like two seconds and goes "group the numbers into twos, subtract 18 from each, and then it's the alphabet letter based on the number" and then just walks off

Dustin is taking an engineering class and is having trouble building a bridge cuz it keeps collapsing when he sends a hot wheels car over it. Steve tells him he needs more load-bearing beams and to distribute the weight evenly and Dustin is surprised when it works

And, of course, Eddie sees all of this so one day when Max or Erica ask for help with some geometry homework he takes the worksheet they give him and immediately passes it along to Steve, waves off their disbelief, and sits all smug while Steve explains concepts they'd been missing entirely

[clumsypuppy]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[neigepomme]

cowboy!caleb who teaches a cute city girl like you how to ride a horse.. when you try to get on and forget you're wearing a skirt, he takes off his hat and covers you in order to make sure your dignity isn't compromised.

you're nervous, and his mare, ambrosia (rosie), senses it and starts getting agitated — so he hops on behind you to calm the two of you down. he wraps his hands around yours, holding the reins and softly speaks, "whoa girl, you're scaring the lovely lady on your back."

somehow, the firm hold he has on your hands and the warmth of his chest against your back is grounding, and you're confident trying to give the mare a command again. "jog?" and the mare starts trotting suddenly — causing your back to collide with caleb's chest. you're quick to apologize, but you're met with a chuckle and a sultry whisper of "all good, doll. i think rosie likes ya already," against the shell of your ear.

you desperately need to thank your mom for pressuring you into joining her on her countryside trip.

[sirassban]

Inspired by ch 2 of the blurr story line written by @keferon . (you might want to turn up the brightness on whatever you’re viewing this with)

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

I have this headcanon that Dew's brain-to-mouth filter dies whenever he's really tired. Picture a sleep-deprived Dew in the kitchen, running on three hours of sleep and half his body weight in coffee, accidentally getting trapped between Mountain and Aether in the too narrow doorway, quietly going "yay, big boys sandwich" in the most worn out, drained voice. Or him sprawled on the couch, fighting sleep for whatever reason, watching Cumulus cooing "who's a good boy" at a puppy she sneaked in the Den, until he absent-mindedly mumbles "I am".

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[arrow-gt-ace]

sizeshifting for traveling purposes like going small/being made small so that you can fit in someone's pocket or bag or whatever or going big so that you can cover more distance quicker (and maybe carry something or someone) send post

[deadpoetsandlivinglegends]

Headcanon that Meeks will sometimes speak before thinking and half the time it’s some like flirting dirty joke that shoulda stayed an inside thought (“yes sir 😏” like ok freak [affectionate]), and half the time he says something that makes him sound like a grandma

[ominous-faechild]

just putting some ideas down for my own personal reference (lest i forget) and because i think you guys will find it interesting!

in runic magic (in my worldbuilding), the strongest spells are always more complex. however...

complexity ≠ strength

the more detail within a rune, the more it is doing—so extra details within it will "muddy up the water" so to speak. and, the more a spell does, the more essence it costs to cast it.

therefore, the strongest spells—while often more complex, to be more specific and careful—are also minimized to have the least details possible, in order to be efficient.

plus... the more you have going on, the easier it is to interrupt.

and the longer it'll take for you to draw the rune/cast the spell.

and the more dangerous it is for you not to have its effects.

[batlikesstuff]

The eggsack joke is my absolute favorite from the movies btw. It's always at the back of my head, I always at least smile if I think about it and I do start laughing if I watch it.

Marvelous joke. So stupid. But it just hits.

[wawataka]

things to say after your packer falls from your pants

my eyes are up here

is that your phone on the floor or were you just excited to see me

five second rule!

[nandermoenthusiast]

im just imagining nandermo in a very enclosed space like for some reason they gotta be chest to chest pushed up against a wall and its awkward for a moment but then nandors eyes are just boring into guillermos and guillermo has that uncertain but unwavering stare too, and is this what is gonna take for them to kiss?

[foggyinphx]

It could be a flashback with Karen, with Fisk, with Father Lantom, with *redacted*, there's so many possible choices.

But if it is a flashback with Foggy, I'm choosing to believe it's like Matt's dream from Vol 2 #89 (during the fakeout plot), where Matt dreams about Foggy and opening their first office but the details are all wrong. Because it's very weird that they would recreate a scene that already exists, unless it's to twist it somehow.

[plasmalunare]

appreciation post for how much projecting my trauma onto fictional ships has helped me, as well as selfshipping.

i feel like I'd be at a worse place mentally if I didn't have that to bring me comfort through the times where i was struggling a lot.

i truly don't understand how antis can shame others for trying to comfort themselves through their coping mechanisms, everyone's different.

if it doesn't work for you, that doesn't mean it won't work for someone else.

As long as there's no harm being done to a real person, who's to say it's "unhealthy"?

[fizzigigsimmer]

Steve: *proposes randomly in bed* I think I wanna marry you.

Billy: Fuck you Harrington!

Steve: Wha…?

Billy: *muttering obscenities* Now I gotta cancel the gondola and the birds. We’re still going out to eat though cause I’ve had this reservation for like six months.

Steve: Oh… well I wasn’t really proposing, I guess? We could still -

Billy: Fuck you! No take backs. You’e marrying me. End of story!